Still not your fault
by cherrishish
Summary: Sequel to my story Not your fault. Probably won't make much sense without reading that first. The Darkness has been released and is not happy about someone already occupying Dean's heart. Stephanie has to deal with the consequences her involvement with the older Winchester has on her wellbeing. Sickfic. Sick!OC.


Stephanie had been stressed out, to say the least. Dean had left on a suicide mission to ensure the Mark posed no more threat to humanity. Without telling her. Only Sam had clued her in through a short text, in which he had also told her that he had a plan and not to worry.

_Easy thing to say!_

Of course, she had been aware that Dean had been at his rope's end. That he had been literally a hair's breadth away from succumbing and becoming a demon again. It had been evident in his every gesture, in the way he spoke to her these last few weeks, and in the way he had lost all cool when Charlie had died. In the way, he had just shot that Styne kid, Cyrus, in cold blood, even though he had surrendered. Right in front of her no less, something he would have never done before. The fact that the other guy from that psycho family – Eldon or what's his name – had been holding her hostage earlier probably fueled that unforgiving rage further. There was no way Dean Winchester would have let any of them breathe the air of this earth any further after they had threatened not one, but two of his loved ones, managing to end one of them.

But that moment, that final decision had ultimately broken something inside of him, because afterward, Steph couldn't recognize her boyfriend anymore.

He hadn't even acknowledged her presence or her plea for him to stop before storming out. Didn't even check if she was alright after she had been held gunpoint, Dean's bullet aimed at the guy's head also missing her by mere inches. Good thing she was so short right?

In all fairness, the girl was just a tiny bit glad that he hadn't stayed because for the first time since she had known him she was truly afraid for her own life in his presence. Besides that one sparring mishap, Dean had been very in control with her to make sure he wouldn't hurt her physically. He did get dark and broody from time to time, but Steph knew how to handle that.

She had sobbed for hours afterward, not knowing what to do once she had called Sam and let him know about the situation. The only communication she had received since then was that text, but no details on what the solution was, whether it would actually work, where it had come from or anything.

Maybe Charlie had managed to crack the code on the Book of the Damned before her death after all?

Remembering Charlie and her sacrifice unleashed a new wave of tears in the eyes of the purple-haired girl, and in the end, she had managed to cry herself to sleep on the couch in the library.

* * *

_Darkness, endless void._ Wait, this feels familiar, _Steph realized, looking around in a bit of a panic. She had a nightmare when she had been sick a month or so ago in which she was trapped in a place like this. Floating in an empty dark place all alone._

_"Hello?" she called out, her voice working just fine time. Not that it helped much if no one could hear her._

_The girl almost jumped out of her skin when suddenly there was someone else besides her._

_"So you are the one," a woman, looking to be in her mid-thirties with brown eyes and long dark brown hair, dressed in a simple yet elegant black dress addressed her._

_"Excuse me, but who do you think I am?" Stephanie asked, utterly confused, her heart pounding in her ears. Every instinct told her to run, but there was nowhere to go. She was already nowhere._

_"The one that keeps Dean from being fully mine, in body and soul," the lady replied eerily, watching her with a sort of calm, but predatory gaze. It made Steph shiver involuntarily._

_"Who are you?" the librarian inquired, fully intending to find out one way or another. There had to be something supernatural going on. There was no way this was just some normal dream._

_"Does it matter? We are bound and there is nothing you can do about it. That is all you need to know," she smirked, her superiority written all over her features._

_"Sure. If you feel so unthreatened, why the need for this visit, huh?" Steph felt her bravado spark._

_She needed at least a hint to go on. There had to be some lore out there that explained all of this. A succubus had maybe gotten to Dean? Did those even care if their prey's heart was set on someone else? Or was this some twisted djinn? The kind that fed on fears, like the one that had trapped Charlie once? Losing Dean was surely one angst of hers, though not in this way. At least she didn't think so. Dean hadn't so much as glanced at other women since he had known her. Not that she had any way of knowing if he did. They were on the road a lot without her. Sam would have surely told her though if there was something going on behind her back, right?_

_The stranger's features melted into unrelenting cold hardness._

_"I will get what I want, one way or another," she stated, then transformed into thick misty smoke, flying right through Stephanie's core as she made her exit. Sort of like Voldemort did at the end of Sorcerer's Stone with Harry. Steph would have had a geeky field day with this if it weren't happening to her, and it wasn't an utterly terrifying experience._

_The girl felt a bone-deep chill spread through her limbs before she fell farther into oblivion._

* * *

Stephanie woke up in a cold sweat after only an hour's rest, the images of her dream clear in her mind as if they were memories of real events happening. _Who was that lady? And what did she want with Dean?_ she asked herself as she tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

Her limbs felt heavy as led as she tried to sit up on the couch, her breath uneven and she was barely able to suck in enough oxygen into her lungs. Was she having a panic attack? It didn't feel like one, not that she would know. Steph had never had an honest to god panic attack in her life. Sure she had been terrified before, hyperventilating even, but this felt different. Just this weird tightness in her chest that she couldn't shake, no matter how many controlled, deep breaths she took.

Remembering the fact that she still had three dead bodies to dispose of prompted her to get up, even if every fiber in her screamed to stay put. _Better do it now though, before they started stinking up the place_, she sighed internally. Who knew when the boys would get back. IF they would ever get back. _No, don't even go there…_ she swallowed down that thought along with tears that threatened to fall again.

Having the initial determination didn't mean she knew how to drag them out of the Bunker though. Steph stood there at the entrance alcove of the library, just by the edge of the pool of blood, arms crossed in front of her chest, just staring at the floor at the two headshot-wounded and one stabbed body, trying to figure this puzzle out.

Somehow hunter training didn't cover this.

Sure, the girl knew the best way to dispose of the bodies – at least supernaturally speaking – was to salt and burn them. The last thing she wanted was the off-chance these guys came back to haunt them. But no one explained to her what to do when she had on average about 180 pounds per body to drag up the stairs to be able to do just that. Meanwhile, she was still a 5'3 girl. No amount of physical training would enable her to carry this much dead weight. Hah, _dead _weight. That almost made her chuckle. Almost.

She couldn't very well light a fire inside the Bunker. Not if she wanted to breathe still that is. The place had to have some kind of ventilation system, but who knew how strong it was and what kind of fire extinguishing system was in implemented. It had been built in the 50s for crying out loud! Worst case the whole site burned down. Almost kinda worst, everything - including all the precious books of lore and research - got drenched from the sprinklers, all data she hadn't digitalized yet getting lost.

Stephanie sighed. Her only prudent, logical option was to saw the bodies up and carry them out piece by piece.

It probably should have scared her that she felt absolutely nothing after coming to that conclusion. No apprehension, no disgust, no nothing.

She turned around, knuckles rubbing against her sternum, willing that still present tightness away as she went to hunt down a cutting tool of some kind and hazard protection. Gloves, glasses and something in front of her nose and mouth. Sure as hell she wouldn't risk getting any part or fluid of these vile creatures into her mouth!

Oh and the rattiest clothes she could find, that she wouldn't mind getting blood on. This was going to be messy.

* * *

Who knew bones were so hard to cut through... It took her hours just to get that job done. Six pieces per body was what she decided on – head, limbs, torso – not wanting to risk having clean up guts besides the blood that had already spilled. She was trying to be careful as well to not cut into and ruin the stone floors either.

Either case, Stephanie was already huffing and puffing by the time she managed to get all of it outside behind the Bunker in heavy-duty trash bags, having to bend down propping herself with her hands against her knees while willing away the spots in her vision.

And she still had to dig a ditch as well.

Steph straightened up, only to be sent into a coughing fit. The girl held one hand against the bandana that she had tied in front of her face, the other rubbing against the top of her chest. That was starting to become worrisome. Steph was inclined to think that she was coming down with something.

Still, she had a job to do. She was an honorary Winchester, no way she would leave a hunt unfinished. Even if technically this had been Dean's hunt, and he had left her here high and dry to deal with the aftermath.

_Well, under the influence of the Mark he did_, she told herself. _Wasn't his fault. He wasn't thinking._

The purple-haired girl took some steadying breaths, then headed back into the Bunker for a shovel.

* * *

It was well over twilight by the time Steph had the grave deep enough to dump all three Stynes in there. Some gasoline and salt later, she had a pretty big fire going. The warmth it provided against the evening chill would have been nice, if it weren't for the unbearable stench of burning human flesh.

Yeah, hunter training didn't prepare you for that either.

Once the fire had died down, she shoveled the dirt back in to cover the hole, then arranged the surrounding area to lessen the obviousness of the recently disturbed ground.

She had to stop a couple of times to cough and catch her breath, the smoke not having been all that helpful in her lung situation. Her mind briefly flashed to that moment in her dream when that dark mist flew through her, but surely that had nothing to do with this, right? She still had no idea what kind of creature the woman could have been. She glanced down, wondering if maybe the Stynes (the ones outside of the US that is) had unleashed some weird spell to get back at Dean, but the dark beauty's demeanor somehow didn't fit that bill. Less revenge and more jealous kind of homicidal.

Maybe whatever Sam did to solve the Mark situation had something to do with this? She had no idea, he had been awfully secretive regarding everything involving the Book of the Damned and what Charlie had been doing with it. She had found out at the same time as Dean that a) Sam hadn't destroyed the book and b) they had been secretly trying to decode it, bringing a witch named Rowena into the fold as well.

No need to say, it hurt that he hadn't trusted her with that information. Though with Dean being dead opposed to the idea back when the Stynes had first shown up and her being involved with the older hunter might have suggested to Sam that she would tell his brother if he was going behind his back.

It would have been a tough call, no doubt. Would have royally tested her loyalties. Sam's distrust in her hurt nonetheless.

A shiver ran up her spine, so Steph decided to head back in. If she really was getting sick then she needed to get under a hot shower and rest, like six hours ago.

On her way to her room, she spotted the large puddle of dried blood on the stone floor again, along with the massive pile of books and artifacts that the intruders had gathered together from all around the Bunker to burn, reminding her that she still had stuff to do.

The girl stared at the mess for a while, then decided it could wait until tomorrow. It's not like this gore could get any drier and harder to clean up at this point.

* * *

The hot water felt heavenly on her skin. Not to mention, finally being free of the stifling rubber gloves and face cloth. The steam also kind of helped her breathe better, though she still had small fits here and there. At least at the moment it didn't feel like the life was sucked out of her with every ragged breath with which she couldn't pump enough oxygen through her system.

As she got out of the shower, the thought of having to eat something crossed her mind fleetingly, since she had basically nothing all day. Her appetite was non-existent though. _In the morning_, she decided. This had been a pretty fucked up day, in all aspects, no wonder she felt out of sorts.

Once in bed, she ogled her phone. Not even a peep had come from the Winchesters. No missed calls, no texts, nothing. She got shaky just from the thought that something ultimately had happened to them.

Being 11 PM, hoping that she wouldn't interrupt anything dangerous, the girl risked a quick message to Sam, asking if he had found Dean after all and if everything was alright.

Steph managed to keep her eyes open for ten more minutes, willing the younger Winchester to answer or to at least give some sign of life before sleep claimed her.

* * *

Sitting on the floor of the abandoned hospital in Superior, Nebraska – a mere 50 minutes away from the Bunker – Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket, as he was about to abandon all hope as well.

He checked, wondering if Dean had gotten baby Amara to safety. Instead, he saw that Steph was asking if they were safe.

The younger Winchester sighed, checking on black protruding veins on his neck, signaling the spreading of the rabid infection.

Well, he wasn't alright, but he was not going to burden the girl with that. Just like he wasn't going to tell Dean.

So he just left her text unanswered.

* * *

Stephanie had dreamt of darkness again. The woman hadn't a said a word to her this time though. Just stood there, watching, waiting, anticipating, though for what Stephanie didn't know.

Her slumber was cut short by a hacking coughing fit, forcing her to get up to get a glass of water to ease it. Her whole body was practically on fire, every muscle screaming at her to just not move, stiff like a rock. The fatigue-fever was affecting parts of herself she didn't even know had muscles. Speaking of fevers, she might just have been sporting a low-grade one above everything else, which was seriously putting a damper on her mood. She had so much to do, she had no time to be sick, not at a time like this!

As Steph filled her cup at the bathroom sink, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was white as a sheet, dark circles, and bags under her eyes as if she hadn't slept all night.

Her anxiety at her own situation grew as she noticed that Sam still hadn't texted her back.

In either case, Steph got dressed in warm clothes, utilizing her favorite overly large hoodie then went to the kitchen and forced herself to at least eat a couple of pieces of toast and some coffee for good measure to help her wake up.

The girl took her coffee mug and headed towards the library, surveying the damage and cataloging everything she had to do that day.

Cleaning up the blood felt like an overly daunting task to her at that moment, so she decided to bring her laptop out as well, which contained her MoL library inventory based on which she could return most of the pile to its rightful place.

Stephanie honestly hadn't realized just how dusty everything had been in this place. As she worked on clearing away the books, she had to stop and sit down multiple times to cough. She had started to notice a little wheeze with every breath she took, which was seriously freaking her out.

By lunchtime, she still managed to get about two-thirds of the way through, with only those items left behind that either got some blood on them through the altercation, and she wanted to restore/clean more thoroughly before putting away, or she hadn't logged yet prior to this incident, so she had no information on where to return it.

She decided that she really couldn't postpone the pools of blood through, so after lunch – which honestly wasn't much – she got her gloves and face mask out again, along with a bunch of bleach and rags.

Steph got on her knees and started scrubbing away at the first patch, having a really hard time with the stifling effect the smell of the bleach had on her breathing. With the half a dozen stops and breaks to either get some air or struggle with intensive coughing fits, it took her more than two hours to get just one done.

She moved onto the next shortly after, refusing to give up, even though she felt like there was no strength left in her arms anymore. Everything hurt, just keeping her head up seemed like an enormous task, but she kept pushing through.

It was as she was about midway through the third one when her vision started swimming. Even though she wasn't done yet – far from it – Steph had to concede that she was at her limit and had to continue the next day.

After a few minutes of rest, sitting on the floor, she proceeded to get up, only to get extremely dizzy and fall back down.

Steph was already passed out by the time her head hit the floor and still wasn't conscious, when five minutes later the Bunker door opened, with Castiel returning.


End file.
